


The Ring of Arrows.

by hennethgalad



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: Elrond has an alchemist to deal with.19: "Pandora"
Relationships: Celebrían/Elrond Peredhel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: Back to Middle-earth Month 2020: Endings and Beginnings





	The Ring of Arrows.

The whole valley seemed to shake from the explosion, Elrond looked down at the ink he had splattered from his quill and sighed with exasperation. He set down the quill, wiped his hands and hurried through to where Celebrian was holding the hands of the twins.  
"Father did you hear it? It was louder than thunder! Is it Mithrandir? Will there be a feast?"  
"Mithrandir is not in Imladris just now, but we might still have a feast. You have been very good, and you shall have a treat. But I suspect that the bang was made by Pandoras. You stay here with your mother and I shall find out what has happened."  
"But we want to see, do let us come with you!"  
"Hush now" said Celebrian "What if there is another bang?"  
The twins looked up at their parents with wide eyes, then Elladan turned to Elrond.  
"Father! Don’t go! Stay here with us!"  
Elrond smiled and laid a hand on his sons heads, and kissed his wife.  
"Hurry back!" she said.

  
The explosion had taken a bite out of the rock below Pandoras' workshop, and changed the shape of the waterfall. Three storeys of wall above the smoking ruin had slid down into the deeps below, and looking down Elrond could see a great billowing cloud roiling up the cliff, full of dust and splinters. People were hurrying towards him.  
"My lord, you were not hurt?"  
"No, all is well. But how is it with Pandoras? Has he finally taken his own life?"  
"He is injured, my lord, the healers are with him now. Several others were hurt, but none seriously. We have been most fortunate."  
"He has to go. Anywhere in the valley, we shall build him a great mansion, if he wishes it! But he must go."  
"My lord, may I suggest the eastern end of the valley? Downwind..."  
Elrond smiled, thinking back to the first time he had met Pandoras.

  
They were marching north from the burning wreckage of Ost-in-Edhil, mostly in silence. The loss was unbearable, Elrond could not clear from his mind the memory of the dreadful fate of Celebrimbor, and forced himself to look about at the ruin of Eregion, no longer Hollin the fair, but smoking wasteland, full of angry crows rising from the dead fields.  
There was a disturbance in the column, a high young voice shouting above angry elves. Elrond halted the march and hurried down to the noise, for the mood of the troops was grim, and the few refugees they had found were in great distress.

There was a young elf in a ring of arrows, hands held high. Elrond gave the sign and the ring vanished. "What is this? Are you a foe?" he asked kindly. "What is your name? I am Elrond, I am in command of this march."  
"I am Pandoras, son of Hathel of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain and Rhûna the builder. These elves were looking through my box."  
"Sire, he carries poisons! He cried 'Death, death to all!' when we opened his box. He is an enemy soldier, sent to poison our food! Look sire!" One of the soldiers pointed at the open chest on the path.  
"Is this true?" Elrond asked Pandoras. The boy was slight for such a large chest, it was no surprise that his struggles had drawn attention.   
"Sire, no! Well, yes, but not as a spy! Sire I study poisons, it is true, but only in order to better understand them, and perhaps, one day, to heal some of those who have been poisoned, whether by the enemy, or by a plant, or a creature, for all have their own dangers."  
"Poisons?" said Elrond, withdrawing slightly. Pandoras nodded "Sire, there are mixtures in my box that can kill a whole troop, with just a pinch of sand."  
Elrond looked at the thin boy, his clothes were fine, jewelled and richly embroidered, but stained strange colours, and with burn holes and marks. One hand was bandaged. There was truth in him, but he was so young, and so strange that Elrond was baffled for a moment. Finally curiosity decided him "Let the chest be carried, with the utmost care. Too many elves are lost to us from the foul poisons of the enemy. If there is a chance to heal such wounds, we must learn more. Come, young scholar, walk with me, we have much to discuss."


End file.
